


Amateur Theatrics

by Haicrescendo



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: ATLA’s answer to Aesop’s fables, Gen, Toph asks “is anyone gonna adopt that?” and does not wait for an answer, Zuko is a huge fucking nerd and that is a hill I die on, fuck around and find out, life lessons through allegory, no ships here we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27288721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haicrescendo/pseuds/Haicrescendo
Summary: [“Draw a portrait, Sparky,” she says, “It’ll last longer.”Zuko does not draw a portrait. Zuko gets up and disappears to wherever he’s been sleeping (alone and far away, like he’s hiding, even though sound carries too well in this temple for him to keep his screaming nightmares to himself), and Toph thinks for a moment that she’s run him off. She hasn’t run him off.Zuko returns in a matter of minutes, holding what’s clearly a book in his hands.“Hasn’t…” he begins, anxious without fail every time he brings attention to himself, “Hasn’t anyone ever read to you?”]Or,Toph thinks books are stupid. Zuko disagrees.
Relationships: Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 183
Kudos: 2993
Collections: Our Adventures in Bending, best of avatar, zuko best boi





	Amateur Theatrics

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO. Greetings. Hi.
> 
> I’M BACK! This doesn’t mean that I’m back to an update schedule but I am in a better place as far as my writing goes, so there will be updates! I just won’t be giving myself panic attacks over not having stuff ready.
> 
> If you’re here, if you’ve stuck around, if you’ve been waiting for me? If you’re new here?
> 
> Thank you, welcome back, and I’m glad to have you.

* * *

  
Toph doesn’t give two shits about books or scrolls. 

Why should she? Not like she can see ‘em, not that it does her much good. What’s the point? Sure, the paper and ink smell pretty good but essentially it’s just one more thing to carry.

That’s how she feels, anyway, until Zuko shows up.

Zuko is a ten cart pile-up disaster packaged neatly in human form. 

His arrival to the group shakes everyone up, and that’s un-fucking-believable to Toph because, like, they’re all so scared of him? And she can’t figure it out at all, because it’s clear as anything that out of all of them, _Zuko_ is the one who’s most afraid.

He’s nervous and jumpy, and Toph realizes almost immediately that she really should have thought a little harder about sneaking up on him, especially after he burns her feet. She forgives him for it quickly but uses it as a threadbare excuse to make him piggyback her around and just boss him about with a shamelessness that no one else would tolerate.

He doesn’t refuse a request from any of them, but his heartbeat calms when it comes from Toph. 

She hadn’t realized that he was such a _nerd_ , though, until she starts talking crap about books. The rest of them already know her opinions on books, but Zuko slips into scandalized silence. She can feel him staring at her.

“Draw a portrait, Sparky,” she says, “It’ll last longer.”

Zuko does not draw a portrait. Zuko gets up and disappears to wherever he’s been sleeping (alone and far away, like he’s hiding, even though sound carries too well in this temple for him to keep his screaming nightmares to himself), and Toph thinks for a moment that she’s run him off. 

She hasn’t run him off.

Zuko returns in a matter of minutes, holding what’s clearly a book in his hands.

“Hasn’t…” he begins, anxious without fail every time he brings attention to himself, “Hasn’t anyone ever read to you?”

Toph might be blind, but she’s not _stupid_. She’s educated, with all the education that nobility of a merchant clan is expected to have. That meant tutors and teachers who, in the wake of having a blind girl who wouldn’t be able to read a book for herself as a student, had no choice but to read aloud from their scrolls and their pamphlets. It had been excruciatingly dry, and Toph, even when she had been pretending to be demure, had had no patience for it.

But Zuko sounds horrified by the idea, like someone had done her wrong.

Maybe there’s something that she’d missed?

She scoffs anyway.

“Of course I’ve been read to,” she says haughtily, “I’m not _stupid._ Who do you think I am?”

“Yeah, okay, I know,” he says. “But…” There’s the rustle of movement and the sound of him sitting down on the ground. Toph waits for him to say something else, but it never comes.

“You could, if you wanted. It won’t change my mind, but you can try,” Toph tells him when it becomes clear that he won’t broach the subject himself. She can hear him thumbing through the pages of his book. They sound soft. Those pages aren’t new and crisp but old and worn, and she can feel Zuko’s hands on them with a reverence she doesn’t expect.

Katara gives a quiet, derisive little snort from where she’s hovering over the cooking pot, and Zuko’s rabbit heart thrums inside his chest. It doesn’t settle, even when Aang perks his head up.

“You’re going to read a story?” He asks, and even with his misgivings can’t resist coming a little closer. “I haven’t heard a lot of Fire Nation stories. Not in—” Twinkletoes goes quiet the way he always does when he talks about the things that he misses, “A while.”

The rest of his life will be divided into _before_ and _after,_ and they all know it.

“You heard him, then,” Toph says. “Story time.” She scoots closer to him despite herself, and settles in to be bored as hell.

Maybe, she thinks, maybe this will finally be what convinces everyone to leave her alone about books.

“Um,” Zuko says and flips through his book again. “Okay. Okay.” He settles on a page. “Once upon a time, a long, long time ago—before the caldera and the hawkmoths, before humans sprang from Agni’s hearth, before the Avatar, there was a valley hidden between the mountains that was home to only one being: a foxhare who was greedy and arrogant. He’d won his home from the other animals by beating them in a race, for he was the quickest on his feet and no one else could beat him. _If anyone would like to challenge me today_ , he would crow every morning to the sun and anyone else in earshot, _I would be more than happy to race with you._ _If you can’t win, then you can all live in the swamp!_ And that’s what they did, and they all hated it, except for the gatorbears, who already lived there and were happy enough for the company.”

Toph _wants_ to be bored because she’s petty and a little spiteful and likes being right.

But Zuko, nervous and tentative as he is, settles in quickly to storytelling. He stumbles a little at first—not over the words themselves but over the hurdles of speaking them aloud to an audience, but gets over it quickly.

He’s...really good?

Toph doesn’t remember the last time she just...got told a story. She must have at some point, when she was little enough to be indulged. If she did, though, she doesn’t remember it. Maybe Mom did it at some point? Maybe one of her endless train of nannies?

If she did, then no one had ever done it quite the way that Zuko does.

For all his awkwardness, he’s a really good storyteller. He sets the scene, he does _voices_ , still very much himself but slightly different, for each character. Through the floor, Toph can feel him gesticulating with his hands, only half reading, as if he’s memorized his own book and is now using it only as a prop. His heart is calm, with only a slight uptick in tempo when he gets to a particularly exciting part.

Next to her, she can tell that Aang has his chin propped up in his palms, and she doesn’t need to be able to see to know that he’s probably wearing a stupid, sappy face. She knows that this makes him happy. Ever since they got back from seeing the dragons, Aang’s been trying so hard to pull Zuko into their group, but Sparky’s resistant, and no one else is willing to help him pull.

Well.

Toph’s been staying out of it, but maybe she’ll have to lend a hand.

Toph is _so mad_ because she hates being wrong, but she’s enjoying herself too much to even throw a fit about it. 

It’s not a complicated story that Zuko’s telling. It’s very much a story that someone could read to a little kid or something because there’s a lesson and everything, and it should be bullshit. It should be bullshit, except that Zuko, even just telling the story, believes what he’s saying. He _believes_ it, and he’s such a shitty liar that he can’t just be pretending.

Toph is so determined to think that the whole thing is stupid but she just...can’t. Because it’s _fun,_ and Zuko’s got a nice voice to listen to, and somehow makes himself sound _exactly_ the way that Toph thinks that a foxhare who’s got it coming should sound like. She’s so determined and fails miserably at it.

Aang is practically a puddle of contentment next to her, his own heart bright and sentimental as he listens to Zuko read. Normally, Aang at his happiest is about to vibrate out of his skin, but this feels different.

It’s warm and soft and nostalgic, and Zuko’s calm and settled in a way that he never, ever is, and Toph lets herself sink into the story he’s telling her. It’s easy, then, to invest herself into a world that doesn’t exist, and root for the moletortoise who’s so slow but patient and steady and dedicated. Someone read to Zuko, and read to him a _lot_ , for him to be able to read to them like this. 

It’s easy to think of the Fire Lord and everyone associated with him as the root of all evil, but _someone_ in that family had been kind. Zuko’s uncle is kind, and _Zuko_ is kind, and whoever had taught him to read to people like that must have been too. It makes things complicated and way less easy.

He really does have a nice voice, though, Toph decides, when he’s not screaming profanities or screaming in fear. She likes it a lot, and despite herself and her determination to be bored and annoyed, finds herself inching a little closer to him. It’s not just his storytelling that she likes, she decides.

Toph likes the way that his book smells, ink and old paper and something warm and dusty that she can’t put her finger on. Nothing at home was ever _allowed_ to get dusty or worn. 

When things got old, they got thrown away.

Zuko’s book is old and something that he clearly treasures despite its age. Maybe _because_ of its age.

Toph likes the cadence of Zuko’s reading voice but also likes the sound that his fingertips make on worn pages when it’s time to turn them and the way he pauses for dramatic effect at the appropriate times. It’s a theatricality she hadn’t expected from someone trying _so hard_ to be invisible.

As if someone like that could get away with that shit.

Toph’s blind and still can’t fucking miss him.

“The foxhare threw itself to the ground, kicking and wailing and pounding at the dirt, even as the moletortoise and the other animals watched,” Zuko continues, “ _You cheated!_ he screeched, _you cheated!_ But the moletortoise didn’t cheat. The foxhare had been lazy and greedy and arrogant. _A deal’s a deal_ , the moletortoise said. _You lost, and so now we all get to go home._ ”

Zuko’s voice, steady and warm, quakes on the last word. Like it gets stuck in his throat somewhere between his lungs and the air of the temple. Toph has a home, she reminds herself, and Zuko doesn’t. Not really.

If Toph really wanted to, which she doesn’t, she could gather up her things, go home, and be welcomed back. Smothered and pampered and imprisoned but welcomed. So could Sokka and Katara. They won’t, but they could. Aang’s firebending teacher doesn’t really have that option.

(He’s tried already and found it lacking.)

Neither does Aang.

Toph isn’t the sentimental sort. She’s really not. She says what she wants and doesn’t have a whole lot of use for dumb, stupid sappy feelings and doesn’t usually care that much when she steps on the feelings of others. But she hears that little crack in his voice and so does Aang, so still next to her that it’s like he’s finally become one with rock. He’s so still that Toph can feel him swallow his own breath and then hold it in his chest.

Aang only breathes again when Zuko does. 

“Even though the other animals told him not to,” Zuko continues, “The moletortoise offered the foxhare a place to live, inside the tunnels beneath a large mapleoak. _It’s not what you’re used to_ , the moletortoise said, _And you won’t be alone when it rains, but it can be yours if you want it._ And in the end, the foxhare swallowed his pride and accepted what he was offered, because the gatorbears were beginning to look awfully hungry. And that’s where he’s been ever since.”

Toph doesn’t register that Zuko’s finished with his story until he’s closing the book with a resolute sort of snap. Even Katara is silent, despite her determination to be huffy and irritable the instant that Zuko makes his presence known. Snoozles has made no secret of sitting down right there where he stood and listening without trying to hide it. And Aang…

Aang makes a sudden sniffling noise, and Toph can feel him scrub his hand across his eyes.

“Twinkletoes, are you _crying?_ ” Comes flying out of her mouth before she can stop it, and Zuko’s heart rate hikes up exponentially in horrified panic. 

Aang says nothing, and without warning surges across the space between them to launch himself at Zuko. Zuko, who by some miracle manages to stop himself from punching on instinct and catches him instead with a hard exhale of breath. There’s a rustling of fabric as Zuko adjusts to the whole hugging thing; it takes him less time and effort than Toph expects.

When was the last time somebody hugged him? For as much as he acts like a cat-owl being forced into a bath so much of the time, Zuko _melts_ into it, accepting the hard squeeze of Aang’s arms with unexpected grace.

“You’ve gotta—“ Aang’s voice cracks a little, “You’ve gotta stay. With us, okay? You’ve gotta stay with us.”

Toph can’t see shit and for some reason her stupid eyes are burning anyway. She scrubs her knuckles over her face and coughs hard into her elbow, ignores the way that Katara pats at her shoulder in concern. She doesn’t _need_ concern, okay? She’s fine.

Toph is _fine_.

She coughs again and sidles closer to where Aang has finally released his firebending teacher, socks him one right in the shoulder. Toph doesn’t hit him hard enough for it to really smart, but Zuko lays on the dramatics by rubbing at it anyway.

“You got another story in you?”

Zuko, the _jerk_ , is so self-satisfied that Toph wants to wallop him again.

“But I thought books were stupid.”

That’s worth another punch, Toph decides. This time, though, she lets her fingers curl into the fabric at his sleeve and tug.

“Shut up. You got another one in you or not?”

If Zuko gloats, then Toph is going to have to get him again. Three in the span of thirty seconds is too many and with her luck, he’ll get _used to it_. Luckily for him and for her and for everyone else too, Zuko doesn’t gloat. Toph doesn’t have to see to know that he’s smiling at her even as he rubs at his shoulder, feels his focus like standing in a warm patch of sunlight.

_Ridiculous._

There’s the rustling of pages again as Zuko flips to another section of his book. Toph scoots closer to him for this one and Aang’s already at attention; Sokka’s settled down to sprawl out at Toph’s other side and even Katara, determined to be one with her suspicion, parks herself next to Aang now that the stew for tonight is at a good stopping place.

_Your sister doesn’t know what she had_ , Toph thinks mutinously, startling herself with how strongly she feels it. Can you call dibs on another person? Toph decides, right then and there, that you can. _Her loss._

_I’m keeping you.  
_

* * *

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Amateur Theatrics [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895120) by [Rionaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa)




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